The forest Flamme had so diligently concealed with a barrier turned out to be more than just a park with trees. It was an ecosystem running on steroids.
The moment Izayoi walked a couple of kilometers away from the ruined tomb, the "sacred silence" was replaced by a cacophony that would have made a normal person's ears ring. Shrieks, roars, the snap of breaking branches, and the heavy, wet crunch of someone's bones—the forest lived its own life. A life where the word "eat" was synonymous with "hello."
"Noisy," Izayoi noted, adjusting his headphones. "But lively."
He walked northeast, where the "divining stick" had pointed, stepping over roots as thick as cars. His heightened senses worked like radar, scanning the area within a kilometer radius. He felt the ground vibrate from the footsteps of giants, heard carnivorous flowers snapping their buds shut on unwary insects, and smelled the mana spilled in the air.
Mana was everywhere here. In the water, in the leaves, in the beasts.
"So the local critters are on a magic diet too?" he muttered, noticing a passing squirrel spit out a spark. "Curious."
Suddenly, the forest parted, revealing a wide clearing bathed in the setting sun. Izayoi stopped, shoving his hands into his pockets.
The "stage" was already occupied by actors.
Two monsters were dividing territory. On the left, coiled around a giant boulder, towered a snake. Its body was as thick as a barrel, and its scales gleamed like dark metal, resembling tank armor. On the right stood a bear. Not the cute teddy bear from a zoo, but a four-meter mountain of muscle and rage. Its hide was studded with crystal spikes pulsing with a dull violet light.
"Oho," Izayoi appraised, stepping into the light without even trying to hide. "The local fauna doesn't disappoint. Hey, are you guys filming a kaiju movie or is this just a domestic dispute?"
The beasts froze.
Four eyes—two vertical serpentine ones and two bloodshot ursine ones—stared at the small human figure.
Izayoi waited. He waited for a roar, an attack, any reaction at all. In his world, anyone possessing power immediately sensed the threat in him. It was a predator's instinct—to recognize another predator.
But the monsters of this world operated on different logic. They scanned for mana.
The bear sniffed the air. Empty. Not a drop of mana. The snake tasted the air with its forked tongue. Empty. Just a piece of meat in strange clothes.
They glanced at each other (as much as beasts can) and… turned away.
The bear snorted, losing interest in the "bug," and growled at the snake again. The snake hissed back, completely ignoring the human. In their understanding, he was part of the scenery. Not a threat. Not even a worthy snack.
A pause hung in the air.
Izayoi blinked. Then the corner of his mouth twitched.
"Ha..." he exhaled. "Ha-ha."
The laugh was quiet, but the temperature in the clearing seemed to drop a couple of degrees because of it.
"Ignoring me?" he asked again, and metal rang in his voice. "Seriously? You pieces of biological trash decided I'm not worth your attention?"
This stung his pride. Sakamaki Izayoi could forgive an assassination attempt—that was fun. He could forgive an insult—that was amusing. But he could not tolerate being considered "boring background noise."
He took a step forward.
"Hey, freaks. I'm talking to you."
This time he didn't hold back. He didn't release mana—he didn't have it in the conventional sense anyway. He released "bloodlust." Pure, concentrated aggression of a creature accustomed to standing at the top of the food chain.
The effect was like a mental bomb going off.
The air in the clearing became thick as tar. Birds sitting on branches within a hundred-meter radius dropped dead to the ground from heart failure.
The crystal bear, being a mammal with a more complex brain, understood everything first. Its instincts, honed by centuries of evolution, screamed an air raid siren in its head: DEATH.
It didn't think. It didn't growl. The four-meter giant yelped thinly, like a puppy, turned around, and, crashing through bushes, bolted away at such speed that it left a swath of destruction in its wake.
"Smart bear," Izayoi praised coldly. "He'll go far. If he doesn't stop."
The snake, however, was out of luck. Its reptilian brain, governed by hunger and simple reflexes, malfunctioned. It felt no fear. It felt only irritation that the "food" was acting aggressively.
H-S-S-S-A-A!
Its enormous maw flew open, revealing dagger-sized fangs dripping with green poison. The snake lunged. The strike was lightning-fast—a blurred smear of steel and muscle.
"And you—are stupid," Izayoi stated.
He didn't dodge. He didn't draw a weapon. He simply lifted his right leg.
When the monster's triangular head entered the kill zone, he brought his heel down. Lazily. As if squashing a cockroach.
BAM!
It didn't sound like flesh hitting flesh. It sounded like a howitzer shot.
Izayoi's heel met the crown of the snake's head. The kinetic energy of the blow passed through the skull, ignoring the durability of the scales, and turned the reptile's brain into jelly in a split second.
The snake's head was embedded into the earth, creating a crater half a meter deep. The rest of the body, some fifteen meters long, flew upward from inertia, convulsed, and crashed back down with a dull thud.
Dust slowly settled.
Izayoi stood with one foot on the corpse of the fallen giant, hands still in his pockets.
"Weak," he summarized, looking at the dead carcass. "No technique, just size. Hope you taste better than you fight."
An hour later, the sun had finally disappeared behind the horizon, giving way to a huge moon.
A fire crackled merrily in the clearing. Izayoi sat on a fallen tree trunk, holding a massive chunk of meat skewered on a stripped branch. Fat dripped into the fire, causing flare-ups and appetizing hissing sounds.
"M-m-m," he tore off a piece with his teeth, chewed, and nodded thoughtfully. "A bit muddy tasting, but the texture reminds me of chicken. Not 'Michelin' star, sure, but it'll do for field rations."
He looked at the remains of the snake lying in the shadows. Most of the carcass remained untouched.
"A world of swords and magic, huh..." he mused aloud, watching the dancing flames. "Flamme said magic here depends on imagination. Monsters scan for mana and ignore those who don't have it. Demons wear human faces to lie."
He smirked, and in the flicker of the firelight, his face looked sinister for a moment.
"Seems like the rules of this game suit me. Here, the survivor isn't the one who is right, but the one who hits harder. And at that, I suppose, I am an expert."
He finished the meat, wiped his hands on the grass, and stood up.
"Thanks for dinner, slithering snack. Now it's time to find someone who can talk. And preferably—someone who knows the way to this vaunted Demon Lord."
Izayoi extinguished the fire with a kick, slipped his headphones over his ears, and vanished into the night forest, leaving behind only gnawed bones and the feeling of an approaching storm.